


Five Kisses

by lesbiankavinsky



Category: Lovely Little Losers, Nothing Much to Do
Genre: F/F, basically this is lady kisses + angst + an eventual happy ending, i probably botched the timeline sorry about that, meg thinks she's straight for about eighty percent of this fic, she figures it out no worries, this is hilariously close to being canon compliant tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:33:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5993413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbiankavinsky/pseuds/lesbiankavinsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s better than Bea’s daydreams by a factor of about a hundred. Meg tastes like orange juice and juniper and when Bea reaches up to put her hand in Meg’s hair, she can feel how it’s still damp from her shower earlier. It’s becoming more and more obvious to her that this is a mistake, and a serious one, but it feels too terribly real for her to pull back. Meg’s teeth are biting into her lower lip, just short of painful, and her hand has come to rest on Bea’s shoulder, thumb brushing her collarbone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Kisses

1.

The first time Bea kisses Meg is in her bedroom, the two of them sprawled on the floor to get away from the heat of the day. They have glasses of orange juice that Meg had slipped just a bit of gin into. It’s making Bea a little giggly and a little daring, so she acts on her instinct when Meg says, “You know what I miss? Having someone to make out with.” 

Rolling over to face Meg, her head propped on her hand she says, “You know, you could make out with me if you wanted. I wouldn’t mind.”

Meg crinkles up her nose in the cute way that Bea loves and laughs. “That would be weird.”

Bea shrugs. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just making out.”

“I’m straight, though.”

Bea rolls her eyes exaggeratedly, hoping this will distract from the fact that she doesn’t say me too. “I know that, but like, we’re friends and it’d be the next best thing, right?”

Meg considers. “Maybe if we went to a party and made out guys would think it was hot and make out with me.”

“Ew,” Bea says blandly and takes a sip of her juice.

“You don’t think it would be weird?” Meg asks, and Bea thinks she sounds a little bit nervous.

“No,” Bea says, trying to keep her voice neutral. She doesn’t want to sound overly eager. “I think it would just be, you know, friends dealing with boredom and frustration together.”

“Okay,” Meg says. 

As soon as she says it, Bea realizes this is a mistake. She’s known for a while that she wants to kiss Meg more than you’re supposed to want to kiss your friend, and recently she’s started to wonder whether this is a harmless crush or something more and she doesn’t want to end up in love with a straight girl who just makes out with her because there aren’t any convenient boys around. She’d been the one to suggest it, but she realizes now that she doesn’t want to be a substitute. But now Meg is sitting up and leaning close to her, biting her lip and smiling a little, her hair swinging dangerously close to Bea’s face, and how is Bea supposed to resist? She closes the distance between them, taking Meg by surprise. She makes a startled little “oh” that has Bea’s heart constricting painfully. 

It’s better than Bea’s daydreams by a factor of about a hundred. Meg tastes like orange juice and juniper and when Bea reaches up to put her hand in Meg’s hair, she can feel how it’s still damp from her shower earlier. It’s becoming more and more obvious to her that this is a mistake, and a serious one, but it feels too terribly real for her to pull back. Meg’s teeth are biting into her lower lip, just short of painful, and her hand has come to rest on Bea’s shoulder, thumb brushing her collarbone. Bea tugs insistently at the back of Meg’s neck to pull her closer before her brain can tell her to stop being so obvious, but Meg complies, pressing herself against Bea, both of them propped on one elbow on the floor. 

When Meg eventually pulls away, she’s smiling, running a finger over her lower lip. Bea feels terrible, entirely exposed. She’s given herself away, she’s sure of it. 

“That was nice,” Meg says, lying back down on the floor. If she’s aware of the pounding of Bea’s heart, she isn’t showing it. “We should do it more often.” 

Bea lies down too, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out just what she’s gotten herself into. 

2.

It becomes habit, the two of them making out in Bea’s bed with the door closed and music playing loud enough that no one will notice. Bea never pushes the boundaries, but Meg does and Bea gratefully follows suit. It’s Meg who puts her hand up Bea’s shirt, who leaves hickies just below the Bea’s collarbones, who straddles Bea to kiss her. If Bea is being careful, Meg is being anything but, and maybe that’s what makes Bea start wondering if this is actually starting to become real -- not just two friends making out for fun, but an actual relationship. Still, she tells herself, she’s probably just getting her hopes up for nothing. So she doesn’t push, doesn’t ask how Meg feels about this. 

But finally they do have to talk about it, because Meg puts her hand up Bea’s skirt.

“Whoa,” Bea says, sitting up abruptly.

“Sorry,” Meg says lazily, still lying down and brushing the hair out of her face. “Should have asked.”

“No, it’s okay, I just -- ” Bea hesitates, unsure how to finish the sentence. “I think we should talk about like -- what this is. If we’re going to have sex.”

Now it’s Meg’s turn to be startled. “What? We’re not having sex.”

“Oh, god, I’m sorry,” Bea says, resisting the urge to slam her head back against the headboard. What had she been thinking. “I completely misread that, I’m so, so sorry.”

“That would be like, actually gay,” Meg says, leaning against the wall, away from Bea. Bea feels repulsive. If she could just take back the last two minutes, everything would be fine. 

“Yeah, right. My bad, i just thought -- Totally misjudged.”

“We can still make out though,” Meg says, apparently in an attempt to break the awkwardness of the moment. 

“Yeah, sure,” Bea says, and Meg practically lunges forward to star kissing her again. Under other circumstances, her enthusiasm would make Bea happy and hopeful, but now it just feels like an escape from talking about what had just happened. Admittedly, Bea doesn’t want to talk about it either so she doesn’t protest. A few weeks ago, Meg kissing her would have been enough to take her mind of anything, but it’s become the status quo and now that despite her best efforts to keep her expectations low, Bea has started to think about it being possible for them to actually be girlfriends, this feels a lot like a rejection. 

For the first time since this whole thing has started, Bea is glad to see Meg go when she heads home for dinner. Alone in her room, Bea wraps herself around a pillow that still infuriatingly smells like Meg and tries not to think about it. When she fails at that, she switches the music to something about heartache and stews. 

3\. 

The whole thing falls apart two weeks before the beginning of the new semester. They’re in Bea’s room as usual when Meg pauses from kissing Bea’s neck to say, “Oh, I meant to tell you, I’ve started hooking up with Robbie.”

“What?” Bea says a little too loudly, jerking away from her. Her shoulder collides with Meg’s neck. “Oh, god, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Meg says, rubbing her nose a little. “What’s wrong? I mean I know you aren’t crazy about Robbie but it’s not that serious. It’s just fun.”

“Fun?” Bea says, and she can feel herself starting to lose her temper and she doesn’t do anything to stop it. “Fun, like this is fun?”

Meg rolls her eyes. “No, of course it’s different. He’s a boy.”

“So it’s fine for you not to tell me anything about it until you’re making out with me? That’s fucked up, Meg.”

“Oh my god, relax,” Meg says, and now there’s a note of anger in her voice as well. “We always said this wasn’t like, dating or anything. We said that when it started and we said that when we talked about sex that one time --”

“Yeah, because having sex with me would be gay, unlike making out with me. Because that’s so totally straight.”

“You said yourself it wouldn’t be gay!”

Bea covers her face with her hands. It’s true, she had said that, but that was months ago and Meg has done plenty to contradict her insistence about her sexuality. “Meg, I wish you would stop fucking lying to yourself, you’re not straight.”

Meg’s expression closes off. “Fuck you.”

Bea’s anger has dissipated, leaving her with an intense feeling of guilt. Whether Meg is straight or not, it isn’t Bea’s place to tell her that. A friend should be supportive and getting angry and pressuring her is not being supportive. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “That was way out of line. I was just upset because --”

“Wait, are you in love with me?” Meg asks, and Bea feels miserable at the sound of distaste in her voice.

“No, of course not.”

“Then why are you so upset about me and Robbie?”

Bea’s mind spins uselessly, searching for some benign explanation. 

Meg shifts to sit on the edge of the bed. “Yeah. I don’t think I want to do this anymore,” she says, pushing off and leaving, slamming the door behind her without saying goodbye. 

Bea spends about five minutes feeling bad about what she’d said before she gets pissed. She had reacted badly, but how could she expected to be nice when Meg had told her she was hooking up with a guy who they both know is an asshole, literally in the middle of making out with her. Turning the music up, she punches her pillow until she’s exhausted and then she lies down and cries a little and stays there, feeling sorry for herself, until she falls asleep. 

4.

The whole Meg disaster is the major contributing factor to Bea’s no-romance attitude. If she says enough times that she doesn’t need or want a relationship, she can ignore the fact that she got her heart broken. And she can stay angry. She and Meg don’t so much repair their friendship as pretend nothing ever happened and bury any animosity they feel for the benefit of their mutual friends and to avoid questions. They’re obviously not as close as they used to be, but no one seems to notice. 

And then there’s Benedick, who she’d had a crush on years ago and once it becomes undeniable that he likes her, it’s hard to resist. She just wants to get kissed by someone who means it. That’s not so bad, right? It’s nice for a while, and there’s even a period where she thinks she’s really honest-to-god in love with him. Another benefit of dating Ben is that once they’re together, she and Meg become real friends again. They never talk about it, but Meg seems to take it as a sign that Bea is over what happened between them -- and straight. 

Things get complicated when Bea kisses Meg again. It’s in the middle of their prank call session, after they’ve tricked Ben into thinking that Emma Watson wants to meet him and they’re laughing themselves breathless and hugging each other and Bea says, mostly jokingly, “I have never loved you so much in my entire life,” and she’s still feeling lightheaded and delighted when their laughter dies down into giggles, and maybe that’s why she kisses Meg. She does it without thinking, out of instinct or habit or hope. It’s brief, and when Meg snaps her head back, Bea does a better job of covering herself than she would have been able to that summer. “Oh my god, that was weird,” she says, still laughing a bit. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what that was.” Meg smiles again and lets it pass and they call Peter to prank him and neither of them brings it up again. Still, when they’re in Wellington and Bea is curled up in Ben’s lap, it feels pointed when Meg says “Like me deciding to be straight.” Like she’s reminding Bea, just for good measure, that nothing is ever going to happen between them. It stings, but time has passed and Bea is more grown up than she used to be. She can acknowledge now that she was at fault in everything that had gone wrong between them, and it’s not fair to hold a grudge. And she may not fully believe that Meg is straight, but she’s certainly done trying to tell her who she is. Meg is going to have to figure this out on her own, and Bea needs to give her time and space to do that. 

The trip to Wellington is a mess and Bea ends up breaking up with Ben for good shortly afterward, both because it’s becoming harder and harder to deny that she isn’t over Meg, and because he doesn’t exactly react well when she comes out as bi. She misses Meg painfully even if she’s willing to admit to herself that they aren’t going to be together, that doesn’t mean that she’s ready to date someone else. 

5.

The second time she comes to visit Wellington is a year later. Peter invites her down to stay at his place so she can see her old friends and visit his college to see if she wants to apply there. He also takes her to Navarre, the gay bar where he works. And that’s where she sees Meg.

Meg is serving customers behind the bar but when she sees Bea she lets out a cry of delight and comes out to hug her. “Oh my god,” she says, pulling back to look at Bea and then hugging her again. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too,” Bea says, moving to sit at the bar as Meg moves back behind it. 

“What can I get for you?” Meg asks, shifting back into bartender mode.

“Gin and tonic,” Bea says and watches the way Meg moves as she makes the drink. “So you’re working here?”

“Yeah,” Meg says. “Pete got me the job. After I came out.” She says it pseduo-casual, her eyes flicking up to Bea to register her reaction. 

“Cool,” Bea replies, unsure what else to say. Then, somewhat awkwardly, she adds, “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks. I’ve been a lot happier since I figured things out.” She slides Bea’s drink toward her and she takes it gratefully. She takes several large sips, trying to figure out what to say next before Meg fills the silence for her. “I’m sorry for how things ended between us, by the way.”

“Oh god, no,” Bea says. “I feel awful about it, I was a dick.”

Megs laughs. “Yeah, you were, a bit, but so was I. And you were upset.”

“And you were scared and confused.”

Meg looks up at her and smiles. “We’re good then?” 

“Definitely,” Bea says, and she really does feel as though a weight has been lifted. After all this time not talking about it, everything has been put them behind them over the course of less than five minutes.

After that, they chat about school and Bea’s travels and Peter drops by to talk with them when he can. Meg’s shift ends a few hours before Peter’s and she’s about to say goodbye to Meg when Peter clears his throat meaningfully.

“Bea, you should walk Meg home. I can come pick you up after my shift.”

Bea starts to say that she doesn’t want to make him go out of his way when Meg hooks her arm around Bea’s. “That’d be nice, if you don’t mind,” she says, and Bea’s protestations die in her throat. 

Outside it’s dark and cool and Meg leads the way to Vegan Fred’s, where she’s still renting a room. “I’m really glad you came by,” she says. “I’m glad we got the chance to, you know, clear the air about everything.”

“Me too.”

“I just wish…” She trails off and looks at Bea, looking like she’s trying to gauge Bea’s feelings.

“What?”

“I wish I hadn’t fucked things up. Before.”

“Hey, you didn’t fuck things up,” Bea says. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Then I wish we’d started kissing after I figured stuff out. I feel like we missed our shot.”

Bea takes a moment to register this, to breathe deeply so her voice isn’t shaky when she replies. “I don’t think we have to say we missed our shot and be sad about it and move on.” It isn’t coming out right. “I mean, we don’t just have to accept that we got together under weird circumstances and never really dated and things got messy -- we don’t.” She stops, trying to gather her thoughts. They’ve stopped walking and are standing together under a streetlight, neither of them quite able to look at the other. “It’s our lives, right? We can do what we want.” She looks up at Meg. “If you want to be with me, well -- I want to be with you, and so what if we have weird baggage. We’ll figure it out. As far as I’m concerned, you can have as many shots at being with me as you want.” 

When Meg looks up, her smile is wide and soft, a mixture of excitement and tenderness that Bea isn’t sure she’s ever seen on Meg’s face before. It suits her.

“I’m hoping I can get it right the second time around,” Meg says, and pushes Bea’s hair out of her face to kiss her. It’s nothing like their first kiss, or any of the ones that had followed because this kiss is filled with the nerves, the adrenaline, the contentment of two people actually in love, entirely absorbed in one another. For Bea, it’s the first time she’s kissed Meg without a sense of dread in the back of her mind, the expectation of loss and disappointment. For the first time, she gets to kiss Meg without feeling like she’s holding an “I love you” trapped in her mouth. 

Meg pulls away and, resting her forehead against Bea’s, says very softly, “I hate to interrupt this, but it’s kind of cold and we should probably get home.”

Bea smiles. “Yeah, probably.”

“Besides, at home there’s a bed and plenty of time before Peter gets off work. Actually you could probably send him a text saying you’re staying the night and he’d just reply with a string of winky faces and thumbs up emojis.” 

Bea laughs at that. “Sounds like an excellent plan.”

And so they begin walking toward home again, their linked hands swinging between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Angie for proofing!


End file.
